


Nights Like This

by Ulan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Vague Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: It is almost unbearable how much Glorfindel wishes to monopolise him, to have Erestor like this and have him think of no one else. Glorfindel does not know. They are technically lovers, but perhaps that is only while they are in a bed. They never talked about it, and outside of their rooms nothing much seems to have changed.





	Nights Like This

It is a quiet sort of evening. Ordinary, uneventful, it is the kind that many may forget in a fortnight. The evening breeze is cool and drifts benevolently against walls and hallways still warm from a recent summer day.

In one of the curtained windows of Imladris’ main house, a room is bathed in faint, golden light. A single lamp is lit beside an abandoned chess game a few paces from the bed, where two Elves lay together. 

“Erestor.”

A dark head rises at the hushed call. Glorfindel looks up at the eyes that greet him—a beautiful, forest green gaze—and inevitably, as he knew it would, his breath catches as one caught in a waking dream, faced with vision.

Erestor smiles. It comes and spreads slowly, as most his movements do—elegant, calculated, perfect. Black hair slips and falls down a fair shoulder in much the same way, like a slow caress, and it is uncanny how even the smallest of movements take Glorfindel’s breath away. 

Erestor leans in. The kiss he bestows on Glorfindel’s lips is given as though it is a gift, and Glorfindel arches up to him as a man offered a drink after a season of thirst. He cannot help it. Erestor’s lips are soft, warm, and always it is Glorfindel who begs first and licks at the seam, coaxing those lips open so he could drink up the nectar of Erestor’s mouth. Erestor acquiesces, gives his tongue to Glorfindel, and that is all it takes. Glorfindel surges up from the bed, biceps straining as he leaves one arm to hold them up, for the other’s hand comes up and buries beneath Erestor’s hair. He holds that dark head still and plunges in, licking inside that sweet mouth as one starved. His teeth scrape and pull at a full bottom lip before he is coaxing that soft tongue out, sucking it within his own mouth. 

What this is, how it happened—these are questions even Glorfindel asks still. It has not been long that they were but friends, but it is funny how things sometimes unfold as though by accident. Over the years, perhaps he could say that it was not that he never noticed Erestor, for how could he not? Erestor was beautiful in that sharp, regal way, and he stood poised and tall, taller than the young Elves in Imladris and even back in the courts of Lindon, only barely shorter than Glorfindel. His hair flowed thick and straight down his back to rest just right above a shapely backside. Indeed, Glorfindel could not even deny that perhaps once or twice—or more—he might have stared longer than was polite. 

Erestor was, to be blunt, exactly Glorfindel’s type. Granted, it was not often that Glorfindel thought such a thing of somebody, and his life thus far was filled more with feats in battle than anywhere else. But Erestor had the looks and the wit that quickly endeared him to Glorfindel, but then, it was a turbulent time when Glorfindel returned and met him in this new world. The times he caught himself staring up at the other’s balcony, admiring the Elf standing there in dark evening robes, hair fluttering in the wind, were but interludes in a larger, more important story. 

But of course, all wars come to an end. There had been a time of mourning and a time for healing. There came as well it seemed a time for new beginnings, and while Glorfindel thought they were too old and too seasoned by their experiences to ever find themselves falling into the foolishness usually committed by the young, it took but a few glasses of wine and an evening—just as ordinary and otherwise uneventful as this—for Glorfindel to kiss Erestor, and for Erestor to push Glorfindel against the back of the settee upon which they were seated. 

And so here they are, some seasons down, nearly a year since that first time. They lay together as often as their duties permit it, but if asked, Glorfindel cannot promise that he did not pull some strings that year to prevent him from being sent out for too long away from the valley. It is not something he is wont to do, but then, lovers for him came few and far in between. He also cannot remember having a lover like Erestor and so perhaps, there truly is something that can be said of infatuation. 

Erestor is a welcome weight on top of Glorfindel. Blue eyes drift closed, and Glorfindel lets his head fall back as tongue and lips slide down his jaw and neck. Erestor kisses up and licks behind his ear, nipping at the edge, and Glorfindel gasps, for it is a sensitive place. But his reaction only serves to have Erestor huffing in satisfaction, and the wisp of air from his breath only brushes against already sensitised skin, causing Glorfindel to shudder. 

It does not take much. Glorfindel desires Erestor with an intensity that still surprises him. Even now, even if they have done this far too many times to count, his breath still catches when Erestor’s lips graze his skin, kisses along a collarbone and exhales past a nipple. Glorfindel's heartbeats still quicken at the fingers sliding down his torso, dancing along his skin, because _by Eru_ , those hands...

Just this morning, Glorfindel pleasured himself with a recent memory of Erestor in Glorfindel's office, standing over Glorfindel whom he had pinned on his seat. The counsellor had loosened only Glorfindel's breeches to take out his cock, parted his tunic and bared his chest and the tensing muscles of his abdomen so what mess they would make, Erestor claimed would only fall against the gold of Glorfindel’s skin. And just like that, with the setting sun painting Glorfindel’s office a bright, impassioned red, Erestor enclosed his hand—slender, beautiful and sure—around Glorfindel’s excited cock. He began tugging, rubbing up and down with a pressure and pace that were perfect at the onset. His lips hovered just a breath above Glorfindel’s, but he did not kiss him. He taunted him with a temptation just out of reach, though he indulged and pleasured Glorfindel where all his lust pooled hot and heavy. Erestor smiled when Glorfindel had wet his lips, and he chuckled at whatever no doubt crazed expression Glorfindel had on his face. Glorfindel came in no time and only then did those lips descend, kissing Glorfindel as he spurted white seed upon his own skin. 

Glorfindel is crazy about him. His cock jumps at the very thought of _being_ with Erestor, and when they are there, it strains and leaks at the promise of Erestor’s touch. Now, his mind is all but near failing as Erestor continues his descent, skin sliding against skin, until his breath heats the air along the underside of a cock that sprawled hot and heavy against Glorfindel’s abdomen. It twitches at Erestor’s proximity, making the counsellor chuckle. Glorfindel almost protests, asks him to hurry, except Erestor already cuts straight to the quick and drags his kiss-reddened lips along the length. 

Glorfindel hisses and surges at that sweet sensation. His hips rise to meet those lips and Erestor even allows it, opening his mouth so his tongue could lick the underside up to the head. His fingers wrap around the head as his lips drag down again. Glorfindel _groans_ as a thumb plays with the swollen head while Erestor sucks at the sacs at the base of his cock. 

"Fuck, Erestor." 

He is not really one for profanity, but he finds that such words escape him here, in bed, with this Elf. Erestor hums his approval and perhaps that is where the habit began, conditioned and nurtured by the pleasure of Erestor’s satisfaction. That hum tingles on the surface of Glorfindel’s skin and he cannot get enough. He rises on his elbows and looks down to watch, for Erestor going down on him is always a sight to behold. 

The other’s lips are red and shine from their earlier kisses and having worked Glorfindel to full hardness. Green eyes, clear and shining in the firelight, meet Glorfindel’s gaze as fingers slide down to the base of Glorfindel’s cock, keeping it upright as Erestor closes his mouth around the head. Glorfindel could feel the sweat beading against his temples, his neck, a drop sliding down the middle of his back as he watches and _feels_ Erestor slowly descending. Glorfindel grits his teeth as Erestor's hot tongue slides along the length of him, and the suction that follows has him throwing his head back, back arching though he fights to keep still, wanting to just bask in the pleasure of Erestor’s perfect mouth around his cock. 

Erestor moans as he pulls back against his mouthful. Silky black hair falls over his shoulder and momentarily obscures Glorfindel’s view, which Glorfindel immediately remedies. He shifts so his weight is supported by one arm while he cards his fingers through Erestor’s hair, pulling it back and in place behind his head. With his hand already there, Glorfindel's fingers curve around the shape of Erestor's nape, uses it as an opportunity to coax that mouth back. He pushes Erestor’s head back down on his cock, pulling another moan out of Erestor, who enjoys the rough handling. 

The next moments are glorious. Nails scratch lightly against Glorfindel’s sides as Erestor lets him fuck his mouth. At one point they adjust, Glorfindel rising to his knees while Erestor remains lying on his front, back arched elegantly in wait as Glorfindel finds a stable stance. He looks down with unconcealed lust as Erestor licks at his lips in anticipation, and Glorfindel wastes no more time. He takes himself in his hand while his other hand entwines itself in Erestor’s black hair, and like that he coaxes Erestor's mouth open with the tip of his cock, leaving precome on those soft, pretty lips. 

Erestor's mouth welcomes him. Glorfindel's lips part to allow room for his laboured breathing, for from this he refuses to pull his eyes away. He watches the moment his cock enters Erestor's mouth, fed to him by Glorfindel's own hand. He watches the way that mouth opens wider, Erestor's eyes drifting closed and his back arching up as though he, too, cannot get enough. He sucks and laps at Glorfindel's cock as if all the times he moaned out to say he loved the way Glorfindel tasted, that nothing could ever taste as sweet and perfect, were all good and true. Glorfindel's hips sway of their accord, his head finally falling back to savour the sensation of Erestor sucking on his cock, his fingers tightening unconsciously, twisted in dark, silky hair. 

He revels at this slow, intense pace. The air around them is thick with the smell of sex and the combined scent of their sweat, and they fill Glorfindel's head and feeds his arousal. Thank Eru for allowing days for this, for given the liberty to do so, Glorfindel can probably lie with Erestor for hours— _days_ —just finding ways to get both of them off in a multitude of ways. By now he knows he needs no more than Erestor combing his hair to get to the point where he could reach completion with just a few well-timed pulls, but the knowledge that he can also just pull him, wrap an arm around him while his other coaxes Erestor's beautiful fingers around Glorfindel's cock, these are things Glorfindel wants to milk and enjoy while he can. 

"Come here, Erestor." 

He pulls Erestor up to him. His urges are getting stranger and stronger these days, and it does not help that there is something about the way Erestor feels warm in his arms that makes Glorfindel hold him tighter. Erestor sinks into the embrace as though there is nowhere more comfortable—he accepts Glorfindel's kisses and his sigh is sweet, warming the air that cocoons them in Glorfindel's quiet, private room. 

Glorfindel holds him as the fingers of one hand slide down Erestor's back, the sweat on Erestor's back slicking the skin and smoothening his way. His thumb flicks playfully at a tailbone before he sinks his middle finger between soft cheeks, rubbing at the oiled pucker that Glorfindel had played with and prepared earlier. Erestor squirms in their kiss, but Glorfindel holds him there, holds him still even when their kiss muffles an otherwise loud groan, for Glorfindel's finger enters Erestor with no other warning. This angle is tricky and does not allow Glorfindel much, but he makes do, and anyway Erestor is sensitive enough, so that even the mere touch to his softened hole has him gasping against Glorfindel's neck. 

"Nnh, Glorfindel, I--" 

Times like this, Erestor is rarely coherent, and so Glorfindel just listens but does not mind if his actions cut off what his lover has to say. True enough, the words come stilted as Glorfindel _pushes_ his fingers in, two this time, eventually three, mindful of Erestor's cries should they ever alert him of discomfort. They do not, and in fact out of the words Glorfindel can discern, what he hears is his name and pleas for, "Now, Glorfindel, please-- _you_ , I need _more_."

Glorfindel pushes Erestor on his back. He spreads those gorgeous legs that he has fantasised about more times than he cares to count, and indulgently he wraps them around his waist. He then leans in, positions them and keeps his eyes locked with Erestor's, before then pushing in. 

Erestor's cry is one of relief and it reverberates through Glorfindel like waves in a tempest. Glorfindel could not keep in his own groan, and it escapes him, though this he buries in the skin of Erestor's neck. He slackens his control, just for a moment, enough for his hips to thrust a few times, pushing a little bit in and out before grinding his cock in so it sits even deeper within Erestor. 

Ah, but the night is young yet and Glorfindel still has some control left to stretch. He rises to sit up, knees planted firmly on the bed. He stares down where he and Erestor are joined and he breathes in, deep and feral and hungry, the sight never failing to get him heated no matter how high he and Erestor have worked themselves up. He scratches blunt nails from Erestor's thighs, up his hip and a flat, shuddering abdomen. Erestor _bucks_ the moment Glorfindel's knuckles lightly brush past his nipples, and Glorfindel chuckles. 

At this point the flush is high on Erestor's skin, his cheeks and ears near shining in the faint light. The pink radiates down his neck and shoulders, down his chest where his nipples are pebbled red and tempting and this, along with the sight of Erestor's cock even more flushed, hard and leaking against perfect porcelain skin, has Glorfindel licking his lips. 

"Hold still." 

By the Valar, when Erestor flinches, shows restraint as he bites his lip against Glorfindel's fingers pulling gently but insistently at his nipples—the pleasure settles low and heavy in Glorfindel's gut, and his cock _throbs_ inside Erestor. Erestor has worked him well, and it is precisely this that fans Glorfindel's desire to return the favour. 

He coaxes Erestor up, to have him sit on Glorfindel's lap and receive a tender kiss to his lips. Glorfindel then maneouvres them so he himself is sitting on the bed, more stable with his feet planted on the mattress, while Erestor is leaning back slightly, his hands supporting his body's weight on the bed between Glorfindel's feet. He nearly buckles as Glorfindel's fingers resume their light playing, teasing nipples with the backs of fingers and with fingertips, but of course Erestor fights to hold on. Glorfindel is even proud of him, for he holds himself up though his head falls back in pleasure. 

This is one of those things Glorfindel enjoys not for himself but because of how well it works on Erestor. While Glorfindel appreciates a bit of nipple play for himself every now and then, Erestor's sensitivity is so that one can have him trembling and near orgasm with just a few attentive flicks of fingers. Erestor's breaths come quick and heavy as Glorfindel continues their knowing caress, his fingers now merciless as they fly up and down. They rub and tease until Erestor is crying out again, trembling on Glorfindel's lap, hips bucking and eyes sparkling at the corners as Glorfindel continues that fast, steady pace. 

"Please--" 

Glorfindel grabs his arms and Erestor nearly yelps as he loses balance. But Glorfindel catches him and pulls him forward, and in the next instant Erestor's cry is for the mouth that latches on a nipple, hard and tender in Glorfindel's mouth. 

"Glorfindel!" 

Never will his name sound any better. Cried out in that rough, breathless way, not even if all the voices in Middle-Earth call to him in exultation will they compare to how Erestor's voice fills Glorfindel with so much pleasure, a sense of rightness, calling him to action and filling him with the desire to see this Elf messed up and undone. His hands slide down to grip Erestor's hip and he pulls him _down_ , tight and secure, impaled on Glorfindel's cock as mouth and tongue are once again joined by relentless fingers, working those pert buds in a frenzy.

"Almost there?" Glorfindel can tell, but says it out loud anyway. One hand reaches down between them to close around Erestor's cock, slick from where he is leaking precome from Glorfindel's teasing. 

This time Erestor does buckle down, his arms giving out and he falls back on the bed. Glorfindel follows and is soon on top of him, hovering with one hand beside Erestor's head on the mattress as he pulls out, and then thrusts himself back in.

Erestor keens at the claiming and his nails dig at the muscle of Glorfindel's shoulders, but Glorfindel does not care, barely feels them as his focus sharpens only where their bodies joined. He can feel Erestor tightening around his cock and he _revels_ in that, joy and pleasure mixing with a strange near-cruelty that should have been alien, even out of character, but nonetheless it has him needing to see Erestor like this, shouting his name, mind and body filled with nothing but Glorfindel. One of these days, he will work Erestor up until all the proud strength he shows during the day is gone, until he is broken and begging. Glorfindel will then have Erestor climb on him, and he will tell him to do it himself, to fuck himself on Glorfindel's cock until he learns that it is only that and nothing else that will give him release. 

It always comes to this. These days it is almost unbearable how much Glorfindel wishes to monopolise him, to have Erestor like this and have him think of no one else. Glorfindel does not know. They are technically lovers, but perhaps that is only while they are in a bed. They never talked about it, and outside of their rooms nothing much seems to have changed. But now more and more does Glorfindel feel as though they should have discussed things, or _should_ discuss things, and very soon. At this rate he will end up leaving bruises on Erestor's arms, teeth marks everywhere, because the very idea that Erestor is not his is a thing that claws at the walls of his chest, digging wounds that are beginning to ache. 

But then, Erestor never protests, and if there is one thing that gives Glorfindel hope, it is that. Erestor's nails scratch at him just as badly so that these days, Glorfindel cannot even remove his tunic when he is out in the practice fields. Erestor holds on to him tightly, meets Glorfindel's kisses with as much ardour as he is given, and it makes Glorfindel's heart soar. Hope is, as it ever is, a strong, relentless seducer, and as the days continue to go by Glorfindel finds himself falling more and more into its embrace, thinking this, what they have, is every bit the safe haven Glorfindel is foolishly seeing it to be. 

Fingers climb and curl at Glorfindel's nape, and the pleasurable scratching against his scalp is what signals Glorfindel that Erestor is close. He himself is nearly there, and so he doubles his efforts, works to find the angle and pace that draws out the hitches in Erestor's breath. When he finds it, he makes sure to thrust his cock _there_ , in the pace that Erestor likes, steady and relentless though Erestor begins to squirm and tense around him. 

His efforts are rewarded with Erestor finally falling. His back bends in a graceful arch and his fingers clutch at Glorfindel's arms. He shudders as white seed spurts out between them, landing droplets even up to his chest and neck, and the sight of it all is what does it for Glorfindel. Erestor under him, shuddering through pleasure Glorfindel gave to him, pushes Glorfindel to his own release, still nestled and embraced in tight heat. He fills Erestor who lies spent and gasping, black hair sticking to flushed skin while the rest is curled and messy against the white of Glorfindel's bed. 

Glorfindel sinks down to him, kisses him. Even with the both of them tired, eyes and limbs heavy from lethargy, they both always do this, exchanging lazy kisses in lieu of words of satisfaction or gratitide. Glorfindel finds some remaining strength to wrap Erestor's arms and legs around himself so he could lift them both up to the head of the bed, where he lays Erestor down safe and comfortable on the pillows. He pulls the cover on top of them both before joining Erestor. His lover is faced away from him so Glorfindel just wraps his arms around Erestor's waist, pulls him close so the shape of him curves and moulds around Glorfindel's front—back to chest, his plush behind against Glorfindel's spent cock, their legs tangled under the covers. 

Glorfindel blinks sleepily at the dark head in front of him. Erestor's hair falls behind his back as well as over his shoulder, but there is a gap in between where a white shoulder pokes out, revealing smooth, perfect skin. Glorfindel does not even think about it when he gives in. He sinks his teeth there, right where there is a good muscle between shoulder and back. Erestor's groan comes out strained and tired. 

"It will not show beneath your robes," says Glorfindel, as though that excuses it.

Where Glorfindel cannot see, fingers brush lightly against his. Erestor then entwines their fingers as he says, "I was not protesting." 

Glorfindel smiles, and he wonders if Erestor can feel the way his heart beats hard but contented against Erestor's back. He drops a kiss where teeth marks are already showing. "Sleep. Stay the night." 

_Stay the night._ That is what he says for now, but perhaps someday, another time, it shall be: _Is this what I think it is?_

And then, perhaps another night: _May I be the only one?_

Erestor grunts his response, oblivious to his companion's thoughts, but he pulls at Glorfindel's hand, shifting them closer before snuggling against the pillows to sleep. 

Glorfindel smiles. Another night, surely. 

Soon.


End file.
